


Tired

by TheSilentUnderworld



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilentUnderworld/pseuds/TheSilentUnderworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is an insomniac and it puts a kink in Bruces sleeping pattern. Bruce is nasty when he’s tired and says something he quickly realizes is a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

Tony Stark was never quiet. Not just in words, he spoke a mile a minute and his retorts came quick and sharp- but in life.

When he was alone, truely alone, not talking to JARVIS, not talking at all. There was music. Noise. Sound of any type. Always.

Bruce had heard everything from his classic AC/DC (more often while he was working) to ambient rain (when he had passed Tony’s door in the night) and everything in between.

Right now, though, Bruce wasn’t as sentimental about it. He was pissed, actually. Bruce was a calm man, yes, he had to be for everyone’s sake, but if Tony didn’t sound proof his work room so help him he would explode. It took hours,  _hours_ , of meditation to fall asleep every night. To make sure the big guy didn’t wake up as he went down and kill somebody.

You know what makes it hard to meditate? ‘Back in Black’ playing at above full volume from a few floors below your bed.

It was four in the morning! Tony never slept, but fuck all- he had the music turned up to eleven down there and Bruce was at his wicks end.

The pajama clad avenger groaned some of his sleepiness away as the elevator door opened and he stepped out, too tired to do much more than rub his eyes and rasp a very annoyed question to the man he was vaguely sure stood in front of him. “Tony, what the hell are you doing? Turn that music down!”

Tony looked just as tired… No, no he looked more tired. The type you only notice if you know the signs- the faded smile, the acid-washed eyes.

The type that sleep doesn’t fix.

He was engrossed in a mess of metal parts and a grease stained white tank top, and that was normal, and normal for him wasn’t always ‘good’. Something had happened and he was skirting a fading line between 'witty, charismatic Stark’ and whatever laid below.

But Bruce was just-on-this-side-of- unaware tired, and angry, and not in any state to notice the brunette’s condition as said man looked up at him from the ground. “Did I wake you up- shit, sorry Bruce.” JARVIS (who else would it be?) automatically turned the volume down to under half at the words.

“Whatever. Why the fuck are you even awake right now? God, just go to sleep.” Bruce finally finished rubbing his eyes, and saw Tony, and didn’t absorb as much of his surroundings as he would in the waking world. He would never talk like this if he were fully aware, or had seen the look in Tony’s eyes. But he wasn’t, and hadn’t.

Tony gulped and his eyes darted to the left. Crinkled a bit at the tension. “I uh- I had an idea I didn’t want to forget.” He shrugged, shoulders impossibly tense. “I’ll just write it down next time. I mean- it was a good idea though, a new, super-durable mesh pattern for the inside of the suit- it’s genius, you’ll like it when I explain it to you later-” He rambled the lie because if he stopped talking…

“Shut up Tony.” Bruce growled, canines legitimately flaring. “Why don’t you ever just shut up?”

Who knew it would only take ten words to disarm a Stark.

Tony was a deer in headlights.

Doe eyes wide and scared and bleedingly honest, not 'witty, charismatic’ honest. Anthony Stark honest. Man inside the suit honest.

Terrified.

“Because-” He quivered, all guard having been shattered because this was wrong words wrong time. “-I’ll start thinking.”

Bruce had just barely realized what he had said before Tony was shaking before him. The man was always thinking, wasn’t he? But Bruce had never once seen him so pained as to shake.

“I’ll start thinking and it won’t be controlled. My head will just go places and I’ll just remember things unless I’m doing and saying something or- or anything! Anything. I’ll think about the desert and I’ll think about my dad and I don’t want to think-” Tears streamed down his face and he hid it because his hands were the only mask he had left. “I don’t want to think!”

Bruce felt the drop in his gut. The feeling you get when you’ve been looking over the 90° curve at the top of a roller coaster.

Then.

Bam- your falling and grasping onto anything, onto cold metal bars and life and your heart is pounding and you regret, God, you regret.

That’s how Bruce felt.

He went and grabbed Tony around the waist, one hand there holding him steady and the other petting his hair. “Tony- Tony, Shh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” If Bruce was anything more than a good scientist, he was a nurturer. One that happened to be in the wrong mood at the wrong time and made Tony Stark fall apart.

He had thought about  _why_ Tony would have the noise as his constant, but he had never thought it would be so… Important. So essential. Because from what Bruce knew? Tony had a hell of a lot of memories that one wouldn’t want to re-live.

He must have had a particularly bad night, needing to have hands and mind busy at the same time, and these realizations only made Bruce more and more sorry.

“What happened?” He asked, hoping Tony would understand his now soft question.

“I was…” Tony sniffled, not ready to show his face. “Sitting alone in bed and then… Then it was cold. It was so cold Bruce… I was alone. There was sand but no light… no sun… I was in the cave …again. I was alone. And then….” He didn’t pause for dramatization, he paused because his lip was quivering and he wasn’t sure he could continue. “… I wasn’t.”

Bruce held the crying man tighter. Tony hadn’t deserved his berating, they all had their problems. Their unhealthy ways of dealing with them. He kissed Tony’s forehead. “But your not in the cave.” He assured in a cooing voice. “Your right here at home. Safe. With me and everyone else here to protect you.”

Tony finally looked out from his hands, looked at Bruce. “I know. But when it’s quiet… I’m there again.”

Bruce nodded, he understood, each one of them suffered from some manner of post traumatic stress… But Tony had never showed it. Not until now when he showed it all. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?”

Tony just nodded, because he didn’t need music when he was in someone else’s bed. He could hear their heart beat. Listen to it and think about them until exhaustion hit and he was dragged down into sleep.

And that’s just what he did, it took hours, as he lay there next to Bruce, the sun was almost up as Tonys breathing met the pace of a sleeping man.

Bruce smiled at the other once he knew he was under. He hadn’t even tried to meditate his way into unconsciousness while Tony was awake- that would have been cruel. Leaving him all alone in that big old head of his to deal with his demons heart first.

Bruce let his eyes fall and found his center.

Found that it wasn’t as hard as it usually was to fall asleep.


End file.
